


Love is Like a Lit Candle

by Kiittytime



Series: diary of Jane Hopper [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Background characters - Freeform, Blink and you miss the LuMax, F/M, Fic I thought of mid shower, I do what I want, Mileven, Reuniting, Rewrite, This will have a part two, artistic liberty, best writing occurs in the shower, change my mind, if I ever write it, stranger things, writing is a lot of work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 17:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19855954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiittytime/pseuds/Kiittytime
Summary: This is a retelling of the Mike and Eleven reunion of Stranger Things 2 episode 9. Many things are the same, but I added some different POV’s and made my own small twists. Enjoy!





	Love is Like a Lit Candle

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this while showering and then it just happened, don’t be afraid to correct any mistakes, I don’t have a beta reader! Enjoy!!

The winter of 1984 had been cold, almost unbearably so. It explained her boots, lined with fake wool as the sight of the cabin grew closer with every step taken through the marshy field. 

Well, most accurately it was autumn, yet the trees branches shook in the harsh winds, bare of any trace of leaves, snow drifting down from the smoky gray clouds.

Seeing as she’d been walking for miles in such weather, seasons didn’t matter.

Each rustle in the grass sent another shiver down her spine, a chill born of fear and temperature alike. 

If she had been like any of her friends, the impending beast would of sent terror straight through her.

She was different, however. All she had known throughout the years past of her childhood had been bleak, hospital white painted walls. Once upon a time, she had a sister to keep her company, hugging the fear away when the tall, looming men took her away by the arms.

A test subject. Up to the age of twelve, her humanity had been cruelly erased. Her identity was a possession, it’s name tattooed to a wrist - 011. 

Even being in this frail girl’s aura ; knowing her name was dangerous. Such was the fate of Benny, the kind man who had fed her, shot to swear his silence.

A roar ripped Eleven from her thoughts, Demogorgon landing on it’s claws, slimy mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth drooling. 

Her powers had improved so strongly. It was almost too easy to throw the Demogorgon through the air, killing the beast with a final launch through the cabin’s window.

She had made it. She was home. Eleven allowed herself to feel hope as gasps of her family echoed in her ears, even if they were filled with fear. 

The door was unlocked with a simple nod of her head. Telekinesis was a looming curse yet also a blessing. 

Boot first through the door, Eleven’s heart swelled with love. One by one, the Party and it’s adults eyes shined with a relieved recognition, the gelled hair and ‘bitchin’ look swept over. Yet no reaction in this room, not even that of Hopper, her adoptive father’s, compared to Mike as other members of the crowd were nearly pushed aside. 

Mike Wheeler.

His sight in the Void was the only shred of hope, beam of light shining onto her trauma hardened heart.

“Eleven.”

“Mike.”

He had grown in her near year long absence. Not that he towered over her, but she found herself having to look up at him as his arms wrapped around her back, every move with utmost concern.

If he touched her too roughly, he worried the memory of her disappearing before his eyes that night would reenact itself. 

His embrace was leaned into, contact with him her life force, sustaining her with each breath.

Lucas, Dustin, Nancy, Joyce, Jonathan and Hopper had all seen Eleven in the flesh before, yet most of their memory was restricted to the sight of a girl with buzzed hair.

The recognition within all of them, except one of course. Mad Max herself, deemed by Dustin and Lucas the newest member of the Party, despite Mike’s refusal.

“Is that...?”

She kept her voice to a soft whisper, more so to Lucas beside her. Within the locked door of Max’s heart, she knew it was El. Mike had never hugged anyone like that before, ever.

Her only response was a nod, unspoken reassurance.

The pair separated after what felt like a mere second to them, yet years by their friends.

“I never gave up on you. I called you every night - every night for-“

“353 days. I heard.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? That you were okay?”

His voice reflected each emotion, whirling into an overwhelming echo of relief, and if you leaned closer, a hint of a betrayal. She’d known?

“Because I wouldn’t let her.”

Before Eleven’s eyes, Mike exploded, anger and hurt projected onto the owner of the deep, rocky voice.

Chief Jim Hopper.

Maxine Mayfield, despite threatening near death upon those who called her so, was sure this was nothing short of nightmare material.

In a few moments she’d wake up in California, and this ‘Demogorgon shit’ was all a Dream.

After all, superpowers aren’t real. There was no chance in Mike’s - girlfriend? Were they dating? They surely acted like it. She wasn’t real, and her telekinetic powers were but a made up thought. 

Max could hear Mike’s fierce and angry yells bubble down to pained cries, which she noticed El had overheard, the teen’s eyes glossy with tears and lips turned down into a concerned frown.

Surely the surprises of the night were over for Max, until Eleven has wrapped her arms around both Dustin and Lucas. They missed her dearly.

Hadn’t El’s relationship with Lucas been rough and untrusting? She smiled between the two boys like she’d known them for years.

Max frowned, and with each step, light and unsure, she walked closer to El. The Party’s first girl. If the boys were so fond of her, there must of been a clear reason.

“Hey. Um, I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

El’s knowledge of showing her emotions physically was anything but profound. Not reflected on her face, the dislike of Max worked it’s way through her. Mike would later explain to her this was jealousy she felt.

This Max had been trying to take her place in the Party, in El’s mind. She’d even been caught by her alone with Mike.

Max’s handshake was wordlessly rejected, Eleven walking straight into Joyce’s arms. If Hopper had taken on the role of a father figure, Joyce was the closest thing she had to a mother. A mother who spoke to her, cared for her, unlike the mindless chant of Terry Ives. 

Rejected, again. First by Mike and now by the girl he seemed obsessed with. El’s face had been stone cold, but the hurt shined in the redhead’s eyes. 

The few moments she had to think, Max was completely out of it, zoning out. Lucas worried for her. Of course, his crush on MadMax was no secret.

El would warm up to her eventually, right?

She had to leave. The Chief’s election to company get to the gate was absolute. It would save Will. A thirteen year old girl had the weight of saving potentially all of Hawkins from Demodogs on her shoulders alone.

Hurt by her or not, Max couldn’t help but feel bad for the girl as she whispered to Mike outside.

“Just be careful, alright? I can’t - I cannot lose you again, El.”

Both their eyes had dried over after their reunion, but they shined with unshed tears yet again.

“You won’t lose me again. I’ll.... I’ll come home. To you.”

He wanted to pick her up, carry her away in his arms. Protect this girl in front of her with every inch of his being.

In this moment, Mike Wheeler knew. He knew he’d die for Eleven, no questions asked. 

He wanted her to always smile. For her eyes to shed no tears except for those of joy.

Here this thirteen year old boy stood, never more sure of anything in his life. 

The adults wouldn’t believe him. Those unaware to the truth would remark it as just puppy love.

But every time Mike’s eyes met Eleven, locked in a fiery, caring gaze, he saw the future he wanted with her.

His parents were in a loveless marriage. Ted Wheeler’s only affections were for his La-Z-Boy.

He’d proved him wrong in that true love did exist. 

The plan to take her all the way through high school came easier to Mike than his next Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

In college, he’d have a sturdy job. They’d share a small apartment, and one night over a candlelit dinner, he’d get down on one knee and-

his thoughts were sharply cut off as El’s hand found it’s place on his arm, seeking any form of comfort.

“You promise?”

Mike’s voice echoed before he even realized he spoke.

Promises were special, but to Mike and Eleven, the word went deeper than any other.

“I promise.”

If they promised, it was to be true. She’d come back safely to him.

The careful inch toward the other was painful, nearly. Hopper could speak up at any moment. She’d be gone within a flash.

But she cupped his cheek with her hand and every worry, every stress he’d ever felt melted away as she turned her face slightly, bringing him closer to her with eyes fluttered shut as their lips met.

Her lips were softer than Mike had remembered. Even after a nights with trial after trial, she smelled of the Eggo waffles she loved so dearly.

“El. Come on, let’s go, it’s time.”

It was like attracting magnets suddenly turned repulsing, fate ripping her away.

Hopper drove her away, away from him. Mike stared longingly into the distance from the steps of the house. 

It was only after Steve, who was apparently their new mother, Harrington, had taken the other kids inside had Mike let the tears that threatened to spill all night fell.

One tear came falling after the other, his softer cries developing into sobs that rocked his body, a year of grief pouring from his eyes as his face burned red. 

The Party heard his shaken sobs, but they knew nothing but seeing El safe and sound could cure such a deep rooted loss.

.

And if his grief filtered through into a plan that could protect El, even if it could buy her mere seconds, he’d do it with no hesitation.

Every danger he’d put himself into the tunnels, nearing the capture by the hands of the Mind Flayer’s fleshy tendrils coating the cave, was worth the memory of a safe but exhausted El walking through the doors in Hopper’s arms.

The winter of 1984 had been cold, the chill of the wind outside unbearable as Mike held El’s hand, recuperating from her exhaustion, a weak smile on her soft lips.

Well, Mike had never felt warmer.

**Author's Note:**

> also stranger things 3 has me dead. anyways hope it was okay! <3


End file.
